She was in Combat today. Right before the class started, right before the music was put on, She stood sideways before the mirror and touch Her belly with a unsatisfied look on Her face. How much I wanted to run to Her across the room, hold Her, tell Her that She's perfect, tell Her not to worry about the way She looks because She is so beautiful, so breath-takingly beautiful, that I love Her exactly the way She is, that I would not change a thing about Her (except Her sexual orientation, maybe).
If only I could do all that... makes me sad to know I never will.
My therapist is on a mission: she is determined to make me social. I suppose it's true what people say: you are sure to fail if you believe you will fail. But I am quite convinced any sociality attempts would end up being a terrible waste of time, mine as well as that of others. I'm boring, I don't realise until later that I could have said/asked something at this or that point, and I have no social skills to speak of, not even the rudimentary ones. Would public humiliation in front of total strangers that live in the same, relatively small town really help me get anywhere?
I can't understand people like audinkopoika who always seems to be on his way clubbing somewhere. Isn't it so tiring to be surrounded by others all the time? Don't these people *ever* want to just shut the phone and lock themselves in-doors for a couple of days not talking or seeing anyone but reading or... just... something?! Enjoy the silence, maybe?? To be alone and put down the guard for once, instead of getting countless people around them talking and doing things and interacting and... I don't know, doing what social people do, not minding their own business and talking all the time just for the sake of talking, about things that are completely useless, not communicating, let alone saying something worth listening and paying attention to?
Saw the film last night. I think it was visually beautiful. I know it's not beautiful in the usual sense of the word but... well, maybe you see what I mean. Also from a linguistic point of view I would like to bow to Gibson for using Aramaic and Latin among others instead of English. The story was not that familiar to me, even though I do remember some religion class in primary school when we watched (the crucifiction in that one probably was done by ropes...). It took me a long time to realise that one guy was Herod. The identity of what in the end turned out to be Satan.. at one point I actually thought he (she? Satan was played by Rosalinda Celentano) could be God in mortal disguise. The only negative thing that I got from the movie was the (to me) inadequate explaining of the cultural background. I do not have the necessary knowledge to be able to place Caiaphas & co., and the Roman chief guy (I don't know who he is, either... later: Pontius Pilate, that's the guy!) in their rightful places in the culture. I could see they all held a lot of power but did not know why. And the truly incomprehensible thing was that Caiaphas accused Jesus of blasphemy... that I just don't understand. Again, the inadequate cultural background knowledge. I really do think this was one of the best films I've ever seen; where did all the criticism come from?
What this movie made me think was the rating basis. Why was it K-18? Many movies rated K-15 have a whole lot more blood and guts shown quite explicitly but they're still K-15. Is it so that when blood and death is shown unrealisticly it is more acceptable? And this being the reason why 'The Passion of the Christ' is K-18? But how is violence more acceptable if it is out of the realm of possibility; in my opinion, it should be the other way around. When violence and its consequences are portrayed realistically, the rating should be lower as it gives a real idea what really happens when you whup someone like that, instead of telling that when you cut someone's head of they dance around comically hands waving around for several seconds afterwords. The unreal depiction I find a whole lot more harmful and should therefore have higher ratings. The problem is that these unreal blood-and-gore films tend to be targeted to teenagers (Scream, I Know What You Did Last Summer, Jeepers Creepers...). There's probably little point in making these unrealistic film to people over the age of eightteen. At the least, the audience would consist solely on stereotypical men in their twenties to whom cleaning means putting the porn films in alphabetical order.
There's a BodyAttack instructor coming to my gym for a visit during Easter to give a taste of what, apparently, will be the gym's new "thing" at some point. I had heard of it before and -for reasons unknown- got the impression it's BodyCombat americanised. Not. Not even near as I learned when browsing through the Les Mills website. Seriously, it's more like BodyStep and RPV (or TBA, if one prefers the free translation... not that it clears anything... thigh-buttocks-abs). And neither of those two has ever been something I enjoy.
Damn it, I was already so excited on the opportunity of BodyCombat in a slightly different form. Blah...! Well, maybe the new BodyBalance tomorrow will cheer me up.
Today the Western world pretends that women are worth something.
Today the Western world thinks that one day makes up the other three-hundred and sixty-four days during which women are threated as second class citizens who deserve to be raped, abused, diminished, patronised and treated unequally.
Today millions of girls and women will be raped, abused, diminished, patronised and treated unequally by the "omnipotent", pathetic pieces of shit generally known as "men".
Today the thing that is celebrated is actually masculinity; today's festivities are a condescending concession, a transparent attempt to keep women and girls for the rest 364 days as they have been taught to behave: to shut up and spread our legs. Also, to be happy that such a divine creature as a man has decided to have tactile contact with his inferior half and has granted the female the honour of a blow-job or penetration.
Today is exactly the same as the rest of the year to all who are not blinded by denial.
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Picture below: In war-torn Congo, the UN reported over 27,000 rapes in 2006 alone. There are places where 70 percent of all women have reported to have been sexually brutalised. In these places, women are abused beyond repair as their reproductive organs and digestive systems are destroyed with wooden sticks, guns, and penises. Authorities, at best, do nothing. At worst, they are the rapists. Doctors, missionaries and volunteers are left to put together what can be fixed.
We've gone through the Combat programme number 35 and to my extreme joy I noticed I know the entire new choreography by heart almost completely. And the programme isn't even officially released yet! YEEHA!
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Playing now:
'The Truth is in Here' by Ayreon. One addictive song. 'The Sixth Extinction' comes close, too.
And the title, by the way, is not the Ayreon album's title. That's 01011001, as in 89 in the usual hexadesimal system, as in Y is ASCII code. And Y is the name of the planet which the alien race Forever inhabit. Just for your edification... I'm sure you will all need to know all this.. =)
Have any of your parents sent you to some music lessons when you were a kid even though you weren't anywhere as enthusiastic about it as they were?
I have a dream: I'd like to learn to play an instrument but I'm far too old to go to those basic lessons that are probably full of children. In case you haven't noticed, I don't go for a kid anymore. And private lessons are probably difficult to arrange (and they're quite expensive, too, I suppose). And I should buy a cello of my own, too. And those, for a fact, are expensive even if I wasn't investing in a $5-US-millions Stradivarius. Not that there are many of those for sale, anyway... :)
Maybe I'm too old to start doing something most people start at the age of seven or something. Maybe I should just bury this dream. I don't know.
It's, by the way, the Russian cellist Nina Kotova in the picture below.
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Listening to now:
'Virginia' by Vuokko Hovatta. I hope she wins the finals but it would seem Teräsbetoni has a lot of prestige for some reason. But 'Virginia' made me cry so fuck metal.
Edit: Okay, Teräsbetoni is going to Belgrad. The return of the crazy Finns. ;)
I'm currently writing an essay on female genital mutilation and came across with the following:
"The function of this practice, whether mild or severe, is ultimately to reduce a woman's sexual desire, and so ensure her virginity until marriage. The more extensive procedure, involving stitching of the vagina, has the same aim, but reducing the size of the vagina is also intended to increase the husband's enjoyment of the sexual act."
(http://www.irinnews.org/InDepthMain.aspx?InDepthId=15&ReportId=62462)
Does the very last sentence resemble this?
"Suomalaisten naisten uusimmaksi kirurgiseksi parannusmenetelmäksi, rintojen suurennuksen jälkeen, on kaikessa hiljaisuudessa noussut vaginan pienennysleikkaus. Leikkaukset ovat lisääntyneet hurjaa vauhtia, vaikka täällä ei niistä juurikaan uskalleta puhua. Virossa asia on arkipäiväisempi ja suomalaisten naisten vaginan pienennysreissuista on kirjoitettu varsin näyttävästi sikäläisissä lehdissä. Viimeisimpänä vaginaansa tiukensi 8 desin silikoneista tunnetuksi tullut malli Janita Janatuinen, jonka alapää operoitiin joulun alla."
(http://www.hustler.fi/etusivu&id=379)
Have you ever read a book that has intrigued you so much you've neglected most of the other things you usually enjoy and look forward to, only to finish the book and be deeply disappointed due to the ending you expected to be mind-blowing and something you couldn't even imagine, instead getting a mundane resolution you threw to the trash can as far too.. well, mundane?
I've just spent two days with Torey Haden's fiction novel 'The Mechanical Cat'. Resembles greatly 'The Blind Assassin' by Margaret Atwood in structure. I even skipped BodyPump (!) today just to finish the book after I kept catching my thoughts wondering off to the novel and it's plot during Balance. Okay, the ending was justified and I agree with the character who undoubtedly will be punished severely in our Western patriarchal legislation. I was just so hoping the character had been a pathological liar and all of that had been make-believe. That is the easy way out; no need to remember all of that happens every single day to countless girls and women, all who have to live in the constant fear of this. In the novel there is, as Kirsi Rekola says (http://www.mielenterveys-taimi.fi/kipunoita/2000_02/21.htm), "a psychologically created tension within the reader's own mind. Not recommended to the sensitive ones."
